Hot brown days, counting each as they go by,
Staring into a dry nothing, remembering times gone by.
Lost in a million thoughts, like vagabonds through my head they roam,
One-step forward, is another step towards home.
I cannot explain what happened, or how it got inside,
Pushed deep in my soul, but it came out no matter how hard I tried.
Time just could not erase the things I have seen,
Hiding from everything became such a routine.
I now walk among you, but will not know my name,
Nothing happens on my watch, if so; I am the one to blame.
Watching waistbands and hands, vigilance ever so high,
Measuring every risk, willing to sacrifice, or even die.
My memories are postcards scattered by a fan in my brain,
Pictures of happiness, and sorrow, others bring pain.
Images flash by, some more than others,
Each as important as the next, often of my sisters and brothers.
A carousel of memories that have no absolute order,
Fracturing my sense of peace like an exploding mortar.
My solid ground disappeared; I had nowhere left to stand,
From the light, there became darkness in the hot desert sand.
I needed a guide, hero, someone to show me the way,
God only knows the hell she would have to pay.
She became a foundation, my clarity, my life,
I am here today because of forgiveness, and the patience of my wife.
She grabbed my hand when I started sink,
Counted my scars, and filled them with ink.
Standing tall for family, nephews and nieces,
One at a time, picking up my life’s shattered pieces.
I know now that before the day I die,
Into the broken window frame of my life, a thousand shards of glass will fly.
I wrote this poem not to long ago. It will be ready publicly at a college for a local event. Please feel free to give it a read. Thanks for taking a look!